Heaven Knows
by sweetkiwi604
Summary: All it took was for a stranger to show kindness in a world where she thought it no longer existed. One shot. Complete.


Heaven Knows

Thalia sat at the far end of the bar but unlike the rest that were drowning their sorrows in copious amounts of alcohol she was celebrating. She hadn't felt this calm for as long as she could remember and nothing was going to ruin her night. God had tested her and she had passed in flying colors of blood as it spattered on the wall leaving behind a masterpiece. He begged for more every time he pleaded with her to stop. A smile pulled at the corner of her lips as she took a deep breath remembering the glorious smell of defeat as he lay dead on the wooden floor.

"Buy you a drink, lass?"

Adrenalin still coursing through her veins was the only thing that gave her the strength to show her scarred face in hopes of that being enough for the guy to scurry away before she had to even open her mouth. Baby blues stared back at her waiting for an answer, unfazed by her appearance. She blinked a few times waiting for the inevitable; he'd realize how hideous she was, make some unruly comments, and he would be added to her list. They all were.

"Whiskey? Scotch? Bourbon?" He questioned, still sitting there as if she was just any other patron in the bar.

She at least gave him credit for not assuming she liked the weak shit because she was female and finally responded. "Whiskey." He nodded to the bartender and ordered them both a drink. They sat in silence as he enjoyed his whiskey and she couldn't stand it anymore, she wasn't just going to sit and wait for the inevitable. "Look, if you're here to win some bet with your friends then you won. You can run along back to your crew and have a good laugh."

He stared at her with his glass halfway to his lips, unsure at what he had done to upset her. "I'm sorry if I-" He started to apologize but found himself at a loss for words. He had just been waiting for his brother and thought he'd pass the time with the girl that looked like she could use the company. That was when his gaze landed on her jeans and the few drops of blood that had soaked into the material. "Christ! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did someone do this to you?"

Laughter easily fell from her lips as his eyes flashed between anger and concern. "I'm fine."

"But the blood!"

If the other patrons hadn't been arguing they might have heard his declaration but their conversation remained between the two of them. When a dark haired man walked up behind them she figured that was when the remarks would start flying but it was just the opposite. It was as if the dark haired man could sense something was wrong even though he had just arrived and had yet to say anything.

"What's going on?"

"The lass is bleeding," the man that had bought her a drink explained, keeping his eyes on her. "If someone did this to you…"

Thalia tilted her head back, finishing off the whiskey and slamming the glass back down on the bar. "What, you assume that a girl that looks like me can't take care of herself, right? I mean if she wasn't so weak then her face wouldn't have been destroyed in the first place." She unzipped her jacket and shrugged out of it, setting the leather on the stool she had just been sitting on, revealing that every inch of her visible skin had been terribly burned at one point in time. "Go on, say what you have to so I can get on with my night."

As if it had just registered what she was waiting for the dark haired man shook his head in horror, "We would never."

"What's your name, darlin'?" the other man asked, motioning for the bartender to refill their drinks. He introduced himself in hopes of showing her that they truly meant no harm. "I'm Connor and this is my brother, Murphy."

Still guarded from the years of laughter at her expense, she eyed them warily. "Thalia."

The dark haired man, Murphy, pulled a stool up next to his brother. "Are you sure that you're okay?"

 _She had gotten used to being disposable. She was the kind of girl people only hung around until something better came along. She smiled at every one she passed on the street in hopes that they weren't as lonely as she felt. Her own misery was enough she couldn't bear to think of someone else in pain. They didn't deserve it. She'd take it all if she could. The world didn't work like that though, fair was a foreign word as misery got handed out like goodie bags at a child's birthday party. There were those who were so used to it that if their lives weren't filled with heartache they would think something was wrong. That was the category that she fell under. It didn't bother her too much at least she was labeled and not forgotten. It was better than nothing, wasn't it?_

 _She had been donned the 'quiet one'. They assumed it was because she couldn't follow the conversation, that she was uneducated or too naïve to understand. They were wrong. She was brilliant and while she could have easily added to the topic at hand she wasn't going to waste her words, especially when they would just be ignored. It was okay though because if she wasn't heard then she couldn't be judged and if she couldn't be judged she couldn't get hurt, right? If only it was that simple. Actions always spoke louder than words and she forever the second choice. There was a line of other people that would get chosen before her. She shouldn't complain, at least she was remembered, even if it was last._

 _She wanted to break free, she was done bending over backwards to make sure everyone else was happy. The only problem was she wasn't sure how to go about it. While she was tried of being a stepping stone she couldn't bear to hurt anyone either. Curse her empathetic soul, maybe without it she would be able to spread her beautiful wings instead of being chained and stuck in the shadows._

 _The only thing keeping her from committing murder was the consequences. She thought about all the ways she could. She thought about holding the pillow over his face while he slept, about the gun that was hidden on the top shelf in the closet, and the variety of knives in the kitchen. The ability to hold someone else's life in her hands fascinated her. The smallest of snips and their lifeline would ravel, leaving her free._

 _The consequences though were like a fence on the edge of a cliff keeping her from falling over. She could barely look at herself in the mirror on the best of days. How was she supposed to survive in jail? Then there would be the stares, the fear from people she once knew, and the tears from the loss of life no matter how much he might have deserved it._

 _She imagined that she wouldn't shed a tear. The hypocrites would say that she would burn in hell for her sins. Funny though because if God didn't want her to take a life then He wouldn't have made it so easy for her to do so. If He truly created each and every one us, if He gave us the ability to make our decisions, our own choices for ourselves, then He handed us the scissors to cut the threads of Fate in the first place. So, wasn't He just asking her, begging her, to do it? Maybe He hoped someone would have the willpower to be all He created them to be._

 _Fate had pushed her crashing through the fence and over the edge into a world she would never be able to escape from. He poured the gasoline and she drove through the flames. The fire danced over her body charring her once angelic skin, leaving her scars as her new armor. No one bothered to smile at the girl with destroyed face and broken soul. She had nothing else to lose._

 _She was out for revenge._

 _ **X-X-X**_

 _"Coffee?"_

 _Thalia glanced up at the teenager who was standing next to her booth with a pot in her hand. She nodded to the mug and then cut her eyes back out the window. His motorcycle was parked across the street and a smile pulled at the corner of her lips. The bell chimed on the door across the diner and she saw him enter, tucking his glasses into his pocket. His eyes swept the place, before they locked on her and his face ticked with annoyance._

 _Her anger bubbled just beneath the surface but she was going to keep a tight lid on it. If this was going to work the way she wanted it then she had no choice. There was a hint of pleasure seeing him annoyed by her presence and that alone was enough to keep her composure. He thought that the cut he wore was a shield to not have to deal with bullshit but she saw underneath the leather and tattoos. He was just a little boy playing a game. His boots seemed to drown out all other sound as he strode over to her._

 _Stopping at her table he bent down, his palms flat on the table and faced her. "Thought we agreed you were going to leave."_

 _Thalia glanced up at him through her lashes before taking a deliberately long sip of her coffee. "Did we?" She set the mug back on the table and looked out the window. "This is my town too. Can't just push me out. I'm done running."_

 _Sticking his tongue in his cheek, he stood. His hands dragged down his face, his eyes rolling back as he groaned. Slamming his hands on the table once more, she noticed other patrons jump at the sound._

 _"Wouldn't want to make a scene now, would you?" She chastised him as if speaking to a young child and slid out of the booth. She patted his chest, her blood red nails such a contrast against the worn leather. "Be seeing you soon, Luther."_

 _Moving to step around him she smirked when his hand wrapped around her arm and stopped her. "I ain't done talkin' to you."_

 _"You got some balls there, blondie, grabbing me like that."_

 _"I think you're the one who forgot who you are. Where your place is."_

 _"Not a chance, sweetheart." She blew him a sarcastic kiss with a wink and removed her arm from his grasp. She could see his lip twitching with a snarl and she had to hold back her smile._

 _He was used to people listening to what he said, going beyond his orders, but she was different. He was starting to think that maybe she wasn't as disposable as he thought she was. He could still smell the gasoline from that night he had lit the match, destroying the girl she used to be._

 _He never saw her coming, it was as if she got off pointing the gun at him, but it wasn't until she pulled out the knife that a smile spread across her face. He was her first, her sloppy work before she started her list. Fate had given her the ability to kill without guilt for if they hadn't laughed at her expense they would have still been alive._

"Lass?" Connor questioned when she hadn't answered, lightly taking her chin in his hand to be able to look her straight in the eyes.

No one had ever cared, not before when she appeared like any other girl, not when she had been burned, not even when she had killed who shot their foul words at her. Not one person.

Until now.

Her face became wet and it took her a few moments to realize that she was crying. Tears that had been kept at bay for years, rolling down her cheeks. Someone cared. There weren't any hidden agendas or malice behind their eyes, they were genuine, and she wasn't invisible. All it took was for a stranger to show kindness in a world where she thought it no longer existed.


End file.
